Scent
by Lifeislikethis
Summary: Donna wears Harvey's jacket, Harvey can't handle it.


_A/N - I feel like I need to preface this and say I am a reader, never a writer, and only recently discovered the wonderful world of fanfic. But while passing time lost in the depths of twitter I came across a post about Donna wearing Harvey's jacket (from the button webisode) and how it would smell of her when she returned it and well, this just came out. I'm not really sure its any good and I wasn't going to post it, but I've decided to challenge myself this year and this is the first one._

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Harvey Specter has a suit jacket that he won't wash.

He doesn't consider himself an overly sentimental person, but still, he can't make himself let that particular jacket go to the dry cleaners. He also hasn't been able to bring himself to wear it again. Several times he's taken it out, intent on wearing it that day, only to be overcome once more and return it to the safety of the back of his closet.

It had been weeks since he left it on her desk, the sleeve in need of a button replacement and she returned it to him, perfectly mended as always. It wasn't until hours later, as he slipped it back on his shoulders, preparing to leave the office for the night, that he was hit with the scent, her scent. The heady mix of her perfume, a combination of sandalwood and jasmine, an always present touch of vanilla, and something else, something unique that he had never been able to put his finger on, something simply just Donna, as though her very essence had its own scent.

It had so heavily affected him that he's pretty sure his heart stopped beating for several seconds. He hadn't been that fully encompassed by her scent in a very long time, feeling his pulse begin to race as he was transported back to that night too many years ago. Images of red hair, white skin and golden freckles filling his mind. Soft moans and groans and the sound of his name on her lips echoing through his ears.

Had she been wearing it? Surely it was the only explanation for her heavenly scent to be so thoroughly coating the expensive material. Breathing in deeply he could have sworn he almost felt the heat of her body lingering in the fabric, his mind spinning into fantasy.

Harvey had always loved the way she smelt, her scent instantly arousing and yet oddly, at the same time calming. Any time he caught it, it would simultaneously arise a feeling of heat and desire, while at the same time providing a sense of peace, a grounding feeling, like he was coming home. It affected his senses in a way nothing else ever did.

He knew he often found himself leaning towards her, standing too close, brushing against her as they walked, all in an attempt to get another hit, an addict tantalised daily by her scent.

After all this time he no longer bothered to question it, his carnal response to her smell. Didn't let his mind wander as to why. Harvey had long ago stopped questioning himself about his actions where Donna was involved.

He knew what the truth was anyway. He kept it buried deep down, sealed tight, but he knew. The answers to those questions needed no debate. But he never let those thoughts out, never gave voice to them, not even mentally.

It wouldn't do any good anyway. She had her rule and he had to respect it. And she was too important, too special, quite simply too intrinsic to his sheer existence for him to ever risk losing her, even if it meant never being able to have her in the way he truly wished, never able to have everything.

That's what he forced himself to remember as her scent on his jacket enveloped him, invading his senses and frazzling his mind, so much stronger than the light breezes usually encountered, trying to dampen down the sudden intense desire he had to rush over to her apartment and shatter all the rules and blurry line they existed within.

He couldn't risk it, wouldn't, too terrified to take the greatest gamble of his life. But fuck in that moment he wanted to, wanted her, so badly. And he knew if she had been there in the office with him there would have been no stopping him, her scent erasing every sensible thought from his brain.

Heading out of the building and into the waiting car, the effort it took to direct Ray to take him home, and not to her place, made his jaw ache.

Entering his cold, empty apartment he headed straight for his scotch, downing a glass in one mouthful, a desperate attempt to dull his over worked senses. His body waging war against his resolve, begging him to give in to desire.

Desperate to regain some clarity he finally removed his jacket, but the scent remained, coating his skin and invading his nostrils. Determined, he headed for the shower, but even then, her tantalising aroma seemed to float in the steam.

Arousal pierced through his groin as the memory of the shower they once shared clawed at his brain. Visions of her lips on his, breasts pressed to his chest, hands trailing his body becoming too much to bear. It was almost as though he could taste her, feel her, every sense heightened due to the intoxicating aroma around him.

Unable to handle it any longer Harvey let the memories flow, his recall of that one lust filled night flawless as always. Reaching for his already hardened length, he began stroking it to the remembered sensation of being buried inside her hot, wet centre.

Bracing himself with his spare hand against the wall of the shower he increased the speed of his strokes. Eyes closed, her scent lingering all around him, the memory of tasting it directly from the skin of her neck, from her lips and between her legs pushing him all too quickly towards his climax. Reaching his peak, her name fell from his lips.

Fuck he was weak. Brought to his knees by something as simple as perfume and idea of her wearing his clothes. She really had ruined him. There truly had been no going back after that night. She erased everything he'd known before and set herself as the standard no one else would ever compare too. In fact, if he's being honest with himself, it had all been over after that very first meeting at the bar. Her beauty, sharp mind and quick wit speaking to him on some unconscious level, recognising the significance of her, long before his conscious mind caught up. He's pretty sure he fell in love with her that night.

And so it is that he finds himself tucking the culprit of all this safely away in his cupboard, his jacket a sweet scented, hidden memory to treasure of the woman he cannot fully have.

At least not yet.

But, one day, maybe.

The thought sneaks through his consciousness unexpectedly and for the first time Harvey feels a tiny seed of hope take hold. Small and weak, but there. Maybe, it whispers to him, maybe one day there will come a time when he can finally act, when the fear will no longer stop him and he can finally, truly have everything.

But until that time he'll have to make do with the small things, the mutual glances, briefest of touches, shared drinks and witty banter, taking his fill of her in whatever small ways he can, secret hidden jacket included.


End file.
